


Live A Little

by Hyperfixation



Series: Growing Younger [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, Cheating, Coming Out, Family Dynamics, Investigations, M/M, Multi, Murder, Self-Discovery, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 06:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19223065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperfixation/pseuds/Hyperfixation
Summary: It's spring 2018 and Harry Potter has grown to be a grumpy old almost-middle-aged man. Work brings a regular hand to his head to get rid of a headache, his marriage is surprisingly intact for the most part, his relationship with his children are held together with thread, some thicker than others, and honestly he wishes for an endless nap. When he finally starts to help out with a sparse case of pureblood murders, Harry definitely doesn't expect the many new things this case will bring into his life. Read this first book to the " Growing Younger" series about what it means to keep a family together, to discover a whole new side of yourself, and to live a little.





	Live A Little

**Author's Note:**

> This story is partly true to the canon events in what happened after the books and movies. I will implement my characters and my headcanons as to what happened, so hopefully, that doesn't change your opinion and yadda-yadda. 
> 
> Point of view has a possibility of changing, but mostly it's in Harry's perspective. If the chapter is in someone else's eyes, then I'll put a note before the chapter begins.
> 
> I know it's not a good thing to mention this if you're trying to grab an audience, but I get writer's block quickly and lose interest fast. I have ADHD, and it's difficult to get past the little things I do when it comes to it. Writing this will prove to be difficult but I have enough determination to not give up on it. Updates will be spotty and inconsistent, but I will try to update as much as my mind will let me. I hope you, my readers, understand.
> 
> Thanks for reading this and I hope you enjoy my fanfiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/28/19 I edited the chapter a bit.  
> 11/7/19 I revised a good portion of the chapter.

_ Tea. _

That's what Harry needs at the moment, for he was dehydrated. He opens and closes his mouth and wrinkles his nose. Harry had just awoken from a nap taken on his office couch, and can only assume there was snoring in his sleep. He hasn't been sleeping well for a while, so he ended up taking noon naps at work if there weren't any assignments that needed to be finished. Harry has also been getting regular headaches upon arrival at work. Maybe it was just the environment he was in, but either way, he'd always drink a glass of water and hope his nap would chase away the ache that plagued him. Fortunately, he was given a pain potion the other day and saw to it that he drank it before he napped. Much to his liking, the medicine worked with his first headache remedies, and his head hurt no longer. Sighing, he stands up, lifting his unnecessarily heavy work robes. _Honestly, who thought to have such weighty robes was a good idea_ and put his arms in through their respective holes.

Feeling weighed down now, he groggily checks himself in a small mirror Ginny had hung up once he got this office of his. She said that he should check himself before he had to talk to his boss or go to an important meeting. Ginny also thought that having his hair neater made him look professional. He peered at his tired-looking face and turned his head. Stubble had started to form on his chin. The ladies in the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures thought he looked attractive with it and knew it was time to shave soon. His hair was messy, he must've been moving around in his sleep, and it was floating due to static electricity, along with the inherent messiness. Harry attempted to flatten it by licking the palm of his hand and using his saliva, but to no avail, it just seemed to float and stick up. Harry then lifts his long bangs and inspects the pink-ish lightning scar on his dark forehead. Over the years, it's less pronounced than it was when he was younger, of course, but it still attracts people's attention in the streets if the wind is strong enough.

The tired, miserable, pathetic expression reflects back at him still. It really goes to show that a job like Harry's shapes a man into hunched over old coot. He blinks and tugs at his cheeks and hisses when he pinches too hard, then lets go of the skin. His eyes seem to wear holes in his real eyes, causing Harry to turn away, unable to bear his face any longer. 

Suddenly, Harry is aware of the fact that he's hungry and it's about time he ate some lunch. He ponders about what he should do to shut up his rumbling stomach. Remembering that it's been a while since he's gone to his regular cafe with his work buddy. He nods to himself, agreeing that it's a beautiful idea, and an excuse to get out of the office.

The weary man walks out of his office and mutters a locking charm, but before he can take another step, an owl flies right for him. He throws his arms up in defense, owl running right into him. It flutters to the floor, and papers inside the folder it was carrying go everywhere. People in the cubicles peer out to see what the commotion is, letting a light chuckle leave every now and then. Harry groans, giving a wave of his wand, collecting all the papers that went astray.

  "Damn owl. Another case? I'll look at it when I get back." He shoves it into his coat pocket, proceeds down a black-tiled hall, through a doorway, and down another corridor. Harry looks for an office door on his right, then upon finding it, goes inside. A group of investigators all turn their heads at whoever just came in, giving a friendly smile.

  "She's in her office, Harry." One of the men gathered motions to another door. He seems to be hanging up pictures of people. 

Harry gives a curt nod to the man before going to open the door, but it opens before he reaches for the handle. He looks up and gives an aged smile to match a slightly younger, brighter grin.

  A woman with sleek brown hair peers down at him. "I thought I heard you come in." 

Ms. Milo Aiber. Head detective of the investigation subdivision to the Auror department. A sweet and honest woman with outstanding observational skills. Someone who has definitely proved she's not afraid to risk her life to care for others or lose another eye at that.

"Of course you would notice it was me," he drops his smile for a second," nothing can get by you, huh, Milo?" 

"Well, it's my job to pay attention to every little detail," She plucks an owl feather from his tangled hair," So, what'd you need, Harry?" She examines the feather curiously.

Startled a little by the feather removal, the raven-haired man blinks before asking, "I was wondering if you'd like to break for tea and lunch?" He can tell she's thinking about it because she lifts her free hand to rub her face in thought. A few strands of her thin, brown, well-groomed hair slip out from behind her ear, only to be tucked neatly back in place. Harry wonders if her hair has always been like that, or if she's done something different. Oh, what doesn't it matter, anyway, it suits her.

"You know it," A grin spreads across her face," Alright, gentlemen, take a lunch break, but you better be working even harder by the time I get back. C'mon, let's get going, _boss_." The tall woman tugs on his sleeve, pulling him out of the room, leaving her team to finish up their work and eat lunch themselves. She let's go as he falls by her side at a steady pace. Even though it took him a moment to process what she had called him, a scoff is eventually given.

Harry gives a quick glance towards her and back to watch where he's going before he runs into an employee. Milo gives a small giggle at the sight of Harry, narrowly dodging someone, almost running into a tittering old lady herself. She mumbles a 'sorry,' continuing her walk towards the lift. The two still don't say anything until they reach the elevator, already full of people eagerly waiting to grab lunch. 

Milo and Harry give each other a look, precariously squishing their way into the lift. They're greeted by anyone not annoyed by the tight fit, earning groans and grunts by those who are.

Relieved to reach the Atrium, everyone bustles off in their own direction, Milo and Harry go towards separate fireplaces. Taking a moment, Harry walks through one and is sent straight up and into a bathroom stall. Quickly, he gets out to let the next person in. Weaving his way through the people, flashing a smile here, avoiding eye contact there. At last, he squeezes his way out into the street, Milo waits.

" How do you always get out here so fast?" Harry huffs, striding to her side as they head towards their destination.

She shrugs, smiling," We're more efficient at going in and out, I suppose. Now hurry, I'm starving, Freya was running late, so she didn't make me breakfast like she usually does."

" You're in luck, then," He points," That new restaurant next to the cafe is open, want to eat there instead?"

Milo gives a relieved look as if she was hoping he'd ask," Thank God, as much as I enjoy the little sandwiches and tea the cafe sells, they aren't filling." Harry nods in agreement as they walk past their usual spot,  then enter the lively restaurant.

A waiter stands behind a podium, greeting them.

" How many?"

" Two."

" Bar, table, or booth?"

Harry glances at Milo with an arched eyebrow, he just gains a useless shrug.

" Er- whatever is best, I suppose."

The poor waiter, who is clearly annoyed that he has to decide for them, replies with," Bar it is." They're then directed to a dimly lit bar with a vast plethora of liquor. People sit at the bar chatting to themselves or either are on their phones or eating their food nursing a glass with alcohol. Both Harry and Milo take a seat on the far left of the bar, immediately a bartender slides in front of them. She pushes two menus into their sight and beams.

" Hullo, I'm Lina. Any starting drinks for you two?" She asks, already pulling out glasses.

 Harry shakes his head, " Oh no, not today, we've still got work to do after this."

" Oh c'mon, not even just a little rum n' coke? You look like you need one, man." Teases the bartender.

Narrowing his eyes, Harry slightly frowns at the spunky lady. He doesn't think he looks all that run down, he hasn't even hit 50 yet. His eyes search for something to see his reflection in, just to make sure she isn't right, but fails to and awkwardly meets Lina's eyes. He isn't exactly fond of how friendly she is with him, Milo, however, decides to humor her. She nudges Harry's side, smiling.

" Maybe you'd be able to see how you look in the drink's reflection instead of searching desperately for a reflective surface around you."

Now exposed, he has no choice but to give in," Fine." A soft celebratory sound comes from beside him.

" Same for me, can't have too much, or I might be unable to work."

Lina gets to work on their drinks as they open up their menus. Harry notices that they have just about everything from all sorts of cultures. His eyes flick over each section, impressed how affordable each dish is, especially how exotic some sound. Finally, he finds something simple that'll hold him off until dinner in the evening, not wanting to miss out on Ginny's cooking. 

Setting their drinks in front of them, Lina points at Milo's hand." That's quite the pretty ring you've got. Let me guess, an engagement, right?"

Harry's tired, dark eyes widen." You're engaged?" Milo straightens up and nods.

"Oh, that's right, I haven't told you. Yeah, Freya and I are finally tying the knot. She managed to gather up the courage to propose. I was super surprised that she even did it. You know how she is, always so soft-spoken and timid. I will admit, though, I cried my eyes out." She lets out a breathy laugh.

Harry playfully nudges her leg with his foot, "You'll invite me to the wedding, right?" She returns the nudge.

"Of course, idiot. Why wouldn't I?" Milo rolls her eyes.

Lina coughs," Congratulations, but uh, are you two going to order food?"

The two look at her and tell her their orders. She jots it down, then shuffles off to go deliver the slip of paper, the two sip on their drinks quietly.  

Harry, not knowing how to pass the time waiting for his food, removes the folder the owl had brought him earlier and flips through it idly. Milo peers overs, giving Harry an outlandish look.

"Do you just carry all of your files with you? Don't tell me you have a secret filing cabinet in that coat of yours."

Harry shakes his head," No, I don't, I'm not Hermione." He chuckles to himself at the thought, then explains himself, "As I was walking out of my office to come to see you, the owl delivering the file ran right into me. After I collected the papers, I just shoved the data into my pocket since I had already locked the door."

Milo laughs heartily," That explains why you have some feathers still stuck in your hair," She motions to her own hair," I plucked one out when I opened the door. I think that's why they hardly use owls to deliver files in the building, it's definitely not unheard of to hear that there was an owl crash." She takes a sip of her rum and coke," I take it it's another blasted report request?"

" Actually, it looks like it's another pureblood murder. One of the Hit Wizards was after a suspect for a different case while they stumbled upon this poor woman," Harry stares blankly at the autopsy report, zoning out. Eventually, he comes back to reality and sighs, understanding the unavoidable work it will bring, so he comes to a decision he should've made a while ago." Y'know, I think I might as well start getting involved now. How many is this now? Three? Four?" He passes the folder over to Milo. She takes a look at it, exhaling sharply with a head shake. 

"What does it matter? It's too many, the damn culprit is so slippery that we think we have him but he just barely manages to get loose and kill again.. Though, with you on it, too, this will be the last kill. Let's see," She pauses and reads over the victim's information," Name, Lettice Febland. Age is 34, unmarried. Oh, it looks like she did become a dragon keeper like she said.." 

Harry arches an eyebrow."Did you know her?"

"Nah, not really. I had a crush on Lettice in my 5th year, though. Shame to hear that she's been murdered. I'll be sure to visit her grave once this is over."

A brief moment of silence falls over them, so Harry mindlessly glances around the place. His eyes catch onto people sitting just a few barstools over, reminding him how comfortable they are. The people seem to be a group of friends trying out the new place just like he and Milo are, though they are considerably younger. How he wishes he still had that youthful glow in his face whenever he smiled or laughed. Unfortunately, the long, relentless years as an Auror, especially after the work grew into useless reports and meetings, snuffed that flame out. Harry wonders if maybe it's just a mid-life crisis that's creeping up on him that's making him feel so old, creaky, pathetic. No, he knows it's just jealousy, wishful thinking. Merely wanting to be young again since his youth was snatched by the duty of saving the wizarding world.

 He looks back at Milo, who has started talking again, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Assuming this is connected to the other pureblood murders, the case is just going to get wider and more sparse. We'll definitely have to get more teams on this. I thought my team and I could handle it on our own, but there's just so much that still require looking into. Hell, I asked my reporter to interview the suspects, but he didn't have much luck since he's only allowed to ask so much. God, I don't know why he decided to be a stupid _Prophet_ reporter."

Again with that reporter, Milo is always talking about him, but she still avoids telling him his name. Harry just shrugs it off like he always does. Though, he supposes he could just buy a copy of the _Prophet_ himself and find out just who is this mysterious man. 

" Alright, here's your food! Enjoy." Plates full of steaming food is placed in front of them. Harry swears he hears Milo groan out of hunger, knowing she doesn't wait for a second longer to dig into what she ordered. Looking down at his own food, he can definitely say he's impressed. The presentation of something so simple as a basket of fish and chips, Harry almost doesn't want to eat it no matter how loud his stomach might protest. Regardless, he eats his food, absolutely melting at how delightful it tastes. Props to the cook, Harry thinks. He'll for sure post this place on the bulletin board list for 'best places to eat near the ministry' in hopes that he'll be able to take any willing coworkers here, so they know just how good it is.

Eventually, both of them are stuffed, plates empty spare a few crumbs. Their glasses that once had rum and coke are drained, he then notes the faint but still prominent buzz of alcohol.

Harry and Milo rise to their feet, then make their way to the cashier to pay for their meal. Milo removes her card from her pocket, handing it over to the cashier. He hands it back to her, and they leave the restaurant without a word.

The wind was still pretty crisp and bit at Harry and Milo's noses as they made their way back to the bathrooms that go down to the Atrium. Harry could tell that it was transitioning from winter to spring; the signs had become more apparent. For a moment, he focused on the street sounds while they walked side by side. He takes a moment to think about everything he's done after the war had ended. All the long weeks of training to become an Auror, getting married to Ginny, having children. It's all gone by so fast, Harry only just realizes it now. He hopes for it to slow down for him to catch up to its fast pace, and maybe he'd look a little younger. The look of endless tiredness, look of being worn down, just gone. Harry knew he could do something about it, but would he even stop to fix it?

No, not really, he never would. He would keep letting time wiz past him, and he'd grow more tired. More worn down. Older.

A gust of wind blows hard enough to make Harry's dark, untamed hair blow into his face. It was almost long enough to reach his shoulders, which is the longest he'd let it get to, bangs messily meeting his nose. There were a couple of thin grey strands among the dark ones. He'd considered dying his hair to get rid of them. Harry even bought the dye to do so, but the day never came, now the box gathers dust in a cabinet.

Not noticing where he's going, Harry thinks that the road work sign is oddly close now, closer than he remembers, and he walks right into it. Milo busts out laughing; she hadn't even bothered to snap Harry out of his thoughts, she doubles over. Stumbling back and bringing a hand up to his forehead, the poor man glares at his howling friend and rubs the forming bump. He playfully pushes the woman, she pushes back, but with more force. Smirking, he tries to kick Milo but misses and stumbles forward. Milo scoffs at the fact that Harry even wanted to kick her, and Harry receives a blow to the ass. He stumbles into the bathroom, getting weird looks as he laughs the whole way into a stall and out of the fireplace below. Milo seemed to have done the same, both trying to catch their breath when they join together by the giant statue in the Artium.

"Who- Who would've thought," Milo speaks after finally calming down," That I would be able to see Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, run into a bloody streetlamp?" She almost falls into another fit of laughing but composes herself.

 Harry huffs, "Shut up, Aiber, I was thinking and not paying attention. Besides," She's given a glare from him," You could've told me to watch out before it was too late."

Milo sighs, nodding," You're right. If you come to my office, I'll give you a patch, so you don't concern Ginevra too much." Harry just shrugs as an answer, catching the next elevator with his friend.

Once the two get into Milo's office, she pulls out a small kit. As she sets out a bottle of disinfectant, Harry sits on the couch in her office. She pours a little on a cotton ball and cleans the impact area. Carefully putting a patch on his forehead, she beamed at her handy work, patting Harry's shoulder.

"All set! Now get to work, Potter."

"I think it should be _me_ telling you that." 

Harry smiles. This moment he shares with his friend makes him feel young again, alive. It makes him think about the years of his youth, all the times he spent laughing and smiling with his best friends, Ginny, and all the others.

After returning back to his office, he slumps down into his chair, picking up a stack of papers. Harry reads over them briefly, investigation reports, file requests, meeting dates and requirements, a load of bullshit. He plucks out the file requests, then retrieves whatever documents were asked for. Getting up out of his creaky chair, Harry sends the files off to their destination and sits back down to work on his reports. 

It's the same pattern. 

Write a few sentences, dipping quill in ink, write a few sentences, repeat.

Harry has no idea how long he does this because when he finally pries his eyes away from the parchment, there's hardly anyone left in the department to deliver his reports when he peeks back out of his office. He sighs, once again sitting back in his chair. Picking up the case file, Harry reviews it and soon gets lost into looking at other related data. He hopes that whatever documents he sent out earlier weren't crucial to what he was doing now.

But the near middle-aged man comes to a conclusion before he's totally immersed. This case is going to give him what he's been searching for.

▫▫▫▫

Harry apparated home after spending five more hours in his office. He finally concluded that everything Milo has said about the case was right, that this was indeed a group project and not an individual task.

Harry opens the front door to his home and finds Lily and Ginny in the kitchen, who seem to be preparing dinner. Lily turns around and sees her dad immediately rushing over to hug him. Harry smiles at his daughter, wraps his arms around her, then swings her around.

"Welcome home, dear," Ginny says, holding a kitchen knife. Harry puts Lily down, going over to his wife.

He smiles, giving her a peck on her lips, "Thank you, Gin," then goes upstairs for a brief moment.

Once Harry makes it upstairs, he removes his robes as a tired sigh escapes without permission. His shoulders ache from the terrible robes he wears, and he stretches. He undoes his tie, throws it down onto the bed, then removes his shoes. Harry wiggles his toes before heading back down.

Lily is perched on the top of the back of the couch and watches him progress down the steps.

"How was work today, Dad?" Lily inquires.

Harry has to think about that one. Should he tell her about the new case? Alternatively, tell her about when he ran into the streetlight?

"It was nice, for once, though when I was going back to my office, I ran into a lamp, see?" Harry lifts his long bangs to give Lily a better look at the bruise that formed on his forehead, the patch had actually fallen off from him running his hand through his hair too much. Ginny abandons her spot in the kitchen and takes a look at it, concerned.

"Oh, Harry, you ought to be more careful. Were you not looking at where you were going?" Ginny gives him a small frown who puts her fingertips to it. Harry winced and nods.

Lily gives a snort, "You're a goofball, Dad." Harry sheepishly grins at her as Ginny goes back to making dinner for the three of them. Harry sits down by his daughter, then slings an arm around her after she rolls off from where she was and gives her yet another smile. He's found that a simple smile says a lot more than words. A smile lets people know that you're okay. Or, in some cases, fools them to believe that you're okay.

Reaching out for his wand, he does a quick flick to turn on the television. A soap opera seems to be playing, and the corner of Harry's mouth twitches in disdain. He changes the channel, watches it for a bit, then switches it again. Eventually, he's satisfied with what's playing and watches whatever he's put on with Lily. At some point, Ginny sits on the opposite side of her husband, snuggling up against him. Harry gives her a little smile before wrapping his free arm around her. He pulls both of his favorite girls closer and enjoys this moment.

Not long after Ginny had joined the two, she gets up and checks on dinner, then declare that it's done. The red-headed girl leaves to go to the dinner table, her father following after her. Ginny notices both of them sitting down and sighs, knowing that they both wish to be served, so she does. She sets down a plate of sausage and mash potatoes in front of both of them and gets her plate. The hungry adult and child wait for Ginny to sit down and hand them their utensils. Once she does so, they dig into the delicious, savory food. Harry sighs, pleased with tonight's meal, will have to thank Ginny later. The sandwich he had eaten earlier didn't hold out for very long, so for the remainder of his workday, he was hungry. Grabbing a cup of tea that was made at some point during the time he's been home, he takes a long drink of it to wash down his food. Upon setting it down, a sigh escapes his lips. He can hear Ginny breath in, about to say something, but flashes her a smile, and she stops. Returning the smile, they spend the remainder of the meal in silence.

Yes, silence. Some families need it. Others don't. Harry thought that silence carried more emotions and words than actual speech, so they often communicated through the silence. The air had a sweet, gentle float to it, which meant that everyone was okay.

Lily, at some point, had left the table after getting permission from her mother and father, returning to the couch. Ginny poured them both a fresh cup of tea and drank it in silence. The married couple moved to the sofa with their daughter, continuing to watch the show that was playing. The clock then let out a short sound, telling them it was 22:00.

 Ginny hums, "Lily, it's 10, time for bed."

 Lily whined at first, but that was before Harry offered to put her to bed. He hardly did that on the few occasions he was home on time, Lily had sprung up, happy to go to bed now. Harry stood up and followed his daughter upstairs and waited for her to change into her pajamas and brush her teeth. She was then in her bed, awaiting her father.

"I remember doing this when you were just a baby, Lil'," Harry begins to tuck her in," You were always so fussy until I created a small star display." Lily nods when he tells her that.

He sits down next to her once she's buried in her blankets and strokes her hair.

"I love you, Lily."

"Love you too, Dad."

Lily falls asleep not too long after that, Harry only lingers for a moment before turning off her light, then returns downstairs.

He finds Ginny still sitting on the couch in the same spot she was before. He takes a seat next to her, and she readjusts herself, so her head sits in his lap. Harry takes her hand in one hand, and the other gently play with her hair. He smiles, fondly down at her, admiring each of her features. Thinking that her red hair is still beautiful and vibrant as ever, each freckle that dots her face is like an angel kiss because she's an angel herself. Harry couldn't be happier with her, he definitely never gets tired of seeing her aging face, especially knowing she's aging alongside him. Running his thumb over her wedding ring, he's reminded of something he wanted to tell her.

"I'll have a wedding to go to at some point this year or next."

"Oh?" Ginny looks up at him." Whose wedding?"

"Milo Aiber. She's that woman I told you about, you know, the head of the investigation department?"

"The one with that rose eyepatch? That's wonderful news. You should ask if me and Lily, and if James and Albus are home, can come. I'm sure it'd be a lovely wedding." Ginny keeps looking up her husband, now playing with the ends of his hair.

He nods, "I'm sure she'd love to have you and the kids. Oh, maybe I can ask if Hermione and Ron can come too, she and Hermione would get along well, she's a muggle-born, too."

"Is she? I didn't know," She thinks for a moment," Now that I think about it, I think I've seen her around. Whom is she getting married?"

"A potioneer woman named Freya, can't recall her last name."

Ginny nods in acknowledgment and says nothing after that, but Harry keeps talking.

"On the topic of Milo, I've joined the recent investigation of her's, there's been another murder. We think it's linked to all those pureblood murders. Lettice Febland was her name. She was a dragon keeper, like Bill."

His wife instantly looks at him upon hearing the name, looking a little shocked.

"Charlie occasionally spoke of her. They were work friends until she suddenly quit her job and left. That's awful to hear that she passed that way. I'll have to owl him about it..." Sadness is picked up in her voice, and Harry feels a pang of regret telling her about it, but now he has some insight on her. He then speaks after giving her a moment to recover.

"Do you know anything else about her?" Ginny shakes her head no at the question.

"That's all Charlie told me, sorry." She apologizes.

Harry nods, making a mental note to owl Charlie, then focuses on the TV while stroking Ginny's soft hair. He hums slightly as a reaction to what's happening in the show that comes on, Ginny laughs.

A couple of hours passed, and the couple finds themselves dozing off on the couch, so they slowly go upstairs. Finally, the two of them prepare for bed. Harry unbuttons his wrinkled shirt and lets it slip off his shoulders and onto the floor. He watches Ginny walked out of the bathroom from brushing her teeth and changing out of her day clothes. His focus then turns to his pants to unbutton and unzip them and steps out. Harry picks up his discarded shirt and tie he had thrown earlier, handing them to his wife, who carries his and her clothes to their laundry basket. After dropping them in, she walks over to Harry, who had sat down on his side of the bed.

Harry wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close. He basks in her scent as he takes a deep, slow breath. Looking up at her, he places a hand against her cheek. She leans down and captures his lips with her own. Harry closes his eyes and kisses her back, moving his hand up her loose fitted shirt. Ginny gasps at his cold hand against the small of her back. Harry manages to slip his tongue into hers, deepening the kiss, and he closes any space between them. The two keep sharing the passionate kiss until they need air, Harry falls back and bring Ginny on top of him. She puts her face in the crook of his neck and plants a soft kiss against it, Harry can feel her smiling. The red-headed woman props herself up, looking down at him with an expression Harry can't quite read. He allows her to get off from on top of him and move to her side of the bed. He situates himself underneath the covers, so does Ginny, who magics the lights off. She scoots close to him, and Harry wraps his arms around her small figure and kisses her forehead.

"I love you, Ginny." Harry reminds her of one of the things that keeps the two together.

"I love you too, Harry."

"Goodnight."

"Night."

Harry doesn't fall asleep right away, but when he does, he has a smile on his face.

▫▫▫▫

The next morning is quiet, and Harry wakes up to the feeling of a cold, empty spot next to him. Ginny must have left for work long before he had woken up. He rolls over onto his side and checks the clock. It says its 9 O'clock, and that means Harry should hurry up and get to work. As much as he doesn't want to go to work, he has to feed his family.

Harry finds a pair of clean, crisp clothes on a chair by the bathroom door, Ginny must've left them there for him. Letting out a sigh, he stumbles into the bathroom and slips off his underwear, turns on the shower, and gets in. The man attempts to wake himself up and quickly shower thoroughly but takes his usual 20 minutes of standing in the water and 3 minutes of actually washing. He was probably late enough, so might as well take his time.

After getting out, drying off, and clothing himself, Harry ambled downstairs to find something to eat. After opening and closing cabinets, then scanning the fridge for something, he settles on making toast. Harry stalks over to the bread box, opening it up to grab two slices. Once he has retrieved his floppy bread, sticks them into a toaster that was given as a wedding gift, waiting for them to pop out. When they do, and no matter how prepared, Harry startles. Quickly, but not efficiently, he carries the hot, toasted bread to a plate he desperately removes from a cabinet. Then he blows on his fingertips as they were slightly burnt. Grunting at how long it is to prepare some damn toast, Harry lathers on a tad too much butter. Checking the time, Harry shoves his breakfast into his mouth before flooing to the Ministry. Nearly choking as he emerges from the green flames, he eats his remaining slice of toast. Harry greets the usual people who are concerned about his arrival. He notes the group of young Aurors has already gone to their cubicles and heads to his office.

It takes him a while to get there after having a slow morning, then again, this is a typical morning for him.

Harry took out his wand from his pocket, unlocked his office door, and stepped inside. As soon as he did, the first twang of pain hit him in his forehead. Bringing a hand up to massage it, he sits down at his desk. With a sigh, he looks at all of his unorganized files and papers, to which he swears got bigger somehow. It bothered him now that he was looking at it all. So, with a flick of his wand, the mess started to organize itself. His filing cabinet drawers slide open, and the papers progressively filled each drawer in its spot. He held down the case file for Febland and watched as the cabinet drawers finally close. Harry lifts his hand off the folder, and it slides off the desk into the cabinet, causing a noise of annoyance.

Harry gets up and gathers all the papers that fell out of the fold they were in and tosses it up onto his desk. He takes a moment and gazes at his office from the floor. It was such a simple setup that you would think Harry was the lamest person in the whole wizarding world. Letting out a low grumble or sigh, whichever it was, it was some disgruntled noise. Harry tries to sit up but ended up hitting his head on his desk. He hisses as he successfully gets up from the floor at the second try, rubbing the spot that had collided with the table. 

Then there was a knock at his door.

Even more annoyed, Harry walks out from behind his desk and to the door. Opening it up, he manages a not-so-unpleasant toned," Yes?"

A tall blond man stands there holding what seems to be a memo.

" Oh. Zacharias. Nice to see you, what is it?"

" You got mail. That Aiber woman said something about not wanting another, what did she call it... An owl crash? So she had me deliver this." He juts it out rather rudely.

Harry frowns and takes it." Thanks."

" Whatever." Zacharias struts off.

Harry's frown deepens as he closes the door, " How unfortunate to see he hasn't changed." He opens up the memo and reads; _Meeting with me at the 14th hour. Don't be late, I have a surprise for you. Up to you to decide if it's pleasant or not._

_What's that supposed to mean_ , Harry questions. He throws the memo onto his desk as he rounds the corner to sit back down, then checks the time. He has around five hours to kill.

With that, he attacks the stack of papers he lacked to finish the previous day. 

Harry goes through report after report, more file requests, and adds more meeting dates to his calendar. He runs a hand through his hair and notes that yesterday's bruise is still very much there and still very much hurts. He prods at it again, instantly regretting that questionable choice.

At least two hours pass and Harry has gone through half of his stack of papers. Much to his dismay, an ache has taken residence in his head like always, but he has a solution. Pushing away from his spot, he rose from his seat and moves to the convenient little couch placed in his office. Harry slides off his work robes, hangs them up, then plops down on his couch. With an exhale, he relaxes into the shape of the cushions. He closes his eyes, letting the nap consume him entirely. 

Just like that, Harry's fallen asleep in his office.

  
  



End file.
